Dark Prince
by Je Sono Aka
Summary: Twelve years ago, Keiths father, Kenneth Ethan Kogane, died. Or so they thought. For twelve years, Kenneth has been a prosoner of the Gahlra, all because of his eyes and an interest from Zarkon. This fic will give moments from those twelve years, meeting the Paladins, and what it means to be a Dark Prince. (Kenneth listed as OC because no character option. OOC Lotor, sorry)
1. Prologue

He was nineteen when it happened, the best day of his life. An alien pod had crashed in front of his little shack of a home, and he had run outside with his axe, not giving a damn for the world. He met her, the love of his life, Kroalia. For a year, they were happy, even having a little boy, Keith.

But then she had to leave.

He raised his son for six years, never telling him about who his mother actually was, but he did give the blade to him. Secretly, he would guard the Blue Lion, checking in on the grand robot. He'd even been inside a few times, but he never flew her. He could never be tempted.

Keith was amazing. His little boy resembled his mother, even though he looked more human. He had milky skin, with high cheekbones and a narrow jaw. His hair was black, dark like his mother, and his eyes were the same shape as hers, but he had purple-grey eyes. It was more grey, so it wasn't noticeable.

Kenneth was happy, he truly was. His son wasn't different from the other kids, and had even managed to snag a friendship with a kid years older than him. Keith was a little speed ball of joy. He was amazing at learning, and he was also so giggly. On the other hand, Kenneth was always put out from everyone else.

Kenneth Ethan Kogane was always different. He acted just like the other kids when he was little, but even as an adult, he was shunned away because of one thing.

His eyes.

He was born with a disorder. It didn't effect him in any way, just made his childhood less, much less, favorably.

Kenneth Kogane was the weird kid on the block, the one who was weird, even though he was the star player on the baseball team, an ace driver, and a straight A student. Even the teachers were put off by him, never calling on him, never looking at him, never giving him detention. He was invisible.

His eyes were normal when he was born, a nice brown. But then it started to change. In light brighter than the level to comfortably read, his eyes would turn purple, becoming more prominent with how bright the light was. If the light levels became darker, his eyes would become brighter, turning a lighter, lighter shade of brown until they were gold or yellow.

Studies were done, of course. So many, he could tell you everything you needed to know about different light levels. Over time, he could control the color, leaving them with only a minuscule range of change.

Kroalia loved his eyes, of course. She loved to watch them, and would trace his face and would bite his lower lip as she'd trace the scar on his eyebrow.

Oh, yes. His scar. His parents gave him that.

He had a younger brother, but kelt his distance, so that he wouldn't think of him as a freak. One day, he saw them change while they were crossing a road and...

He didn't have a brother anymore.

His parents had been happy with the money given to them for having him rented out to laboratories across the globe. Some of the scientists did treat him as a son, buying him toys and taking him out. But in the end, he was just a specimen.

His parents became abusive after his brother died. Belts would whistle through the air, his bed would be stained with his own blood. He'd cry himself to sleep each night, starving.

One day, his mother snapped. It was at a local Fry's grocery store. They were in the kitchen isle, and she snapped. She'd screamed and grabbed a knife from the isle. She'd tore off the covering and attacked him, to gouge his eye out. The customers had screamed, and his eye was soared, but he carried a bine deep scar above his eye for the rest of his life.

He was ten.

Sixteen years later, he was kidnapped by the Gahlra. Someone had escaped those six years ago, and reported about him. They had forgotten about Kroalia. They threatened him with the threat of killing Keith, so he went. They had videos of Kenneth, videos, pictures, and reports. School report cards, job applications, pictures and videos from forgotten moments. A security feed from that grocery store of his mother branding him a freak with her stolen knife. Then they tortured him with something else.

A fake body, gravestone, Keith crying all alone at his grave as his best friend was comforting him, that friend, Takashi, his name was, dragged away screaming by his adopted parents because he couldn't be friends with the son of a freak.

So here he was, his aging process slowed, eighteen years after he met Kroalia, dressed in all black, no emotion in his veins as he stands in front of his eighteen year old son who was dressed in red and white armor.


	2. Year One

**That was the prologue, right there. A bit of a a backstory in Kenneth, and foreshadowing for eitherchapter twelve or thirteen. And why did I make his eyes change color? Simple. I couldn't decide what color I wanted them to be, so I changed them. Ingenious!**

The first thing they did was make replica's of the clothing he wore. Black boots, pants, shirt, bikers gloved, and dark grey vest with the yellow highlight on their collars.

He didn't know why they would make replica's of his clothes. His first, and true, assumption was that they wanted to set him apart from the other aliens roaming around in the torn prison garb. They wouldn't even look at him, a species they never seen before.

Now, he was being escorted with shackles in his wrists to a room. They locked the door, and he was forced to sit across from a male Gahlra. He couldn't believe that these people and Kroalia were the same people.

"Name." Growls the man, yellow eyes contrasting against violet. His purple hair was smoothened back, a tablet held in clawed hands.

"I though y'all knew it all ready." He says, his voice cool, sounding almost dangerous and cold with his slight country accent.

"Name." He growls again. "I don' have time for this insubordination. The Witch wanted this written down officially." He can't help but shudder at the name of this incognito 'witch.'

"Kenneth Ethan Kogane."

"Gender."

"Male."

"Age."

"Twenty-six." The man looks up and smiles.

"A young specimen. Haggar loved to get her claws on the young ones. More options, more information, and more life." Haggar. So that was the name of the now assumed sadistic with. "Now, species."

"Human."

"Earthling." Sneers the Gahlra. "You don't even know the name of your own species!" He keeps his tongue between his teeth. "Now, that is all for now." He taps something else amd two robot guards enter the room. "Take him to a holding cell. We'll find out what to do with him later,"

Later was four days.

Four days of no food. No water. No signs of life besides himself. He was all alone. Then, he looks up to the sound of footsteps, a woman garbed in a cloak before his cell, two guards flanking her side.

"Hmm...fresh." She says, yellow eyes shining in the dim light. Her mouth parts in surprise as she see's his eyes. They're probably a brass or bronze color by now. He couldn't bring himself to control them or think.

"Is your entire species capable of this."

"Just me, darlin'." He mutters.

"This is grand, so many variables and options." She pauses her ramble. "Yes, I can see it now. I know. My entire agenda is planned!"she turns to him, and a hint of something is in her eyes. "You are unique. No race can change or control the color of their iris's. Some have claimed to, but that is just the gas's around their eyes changing to their heat. You are the only thing in the entire Empire that has this ability! Does it affect you in any way?" He gently shakes his head.

"That is good, very good. That creates much more options." She laughs a cackle, pointed canines showing. "Guards! Take him to my lab. Make sure he is comfy. Very comfy."

For the next ten months, he's being cut open and sealed, his organs observed. He can feel it all, but his body is paralyzed. He loses weight, but is hydrated and given nutrients. His home is the dark purple lab with violet lights, surrounded by large glass containers of some sort of gold liquid. Quintessence, they called it. They gave it to him ever day.

He listens, and he learns. He learns so much about this empire, founded ten thousand years ago by this man, Zarkon, who is still alive and ruling.

And after ten months of pure torture, he's released. How does he know its ten months? He doesn't. He counts every nutrients and quintessence injection as one day. Sometimes he slips up on a number. So now he's thrown into his cell, legs weak, body light, and ribs prominent. His eyes are closed as he lays there on the cold floor, breathing heavily as the cell door closes.

He slows down his breathing, and then opens his eyes. He can fell them open, but...

He can't see anything.

Panic floods his veins, and his hands quickly reach up. No bandages, no nothing. His eyeballs are there when he rubs his knuckles against them but...why can't he see? Haggar had made it obvious that he was "different", so why would they disable him? Unless it was temporary...

Was it part of a bigger plan? Did they make him blind for a reason? He sighs. He slowly rolls onto his elbows, pushing himself up. He maneuvers himself until he's leaning against the wall, concentrating on every single noise.

He doesn't know that thats exactly what Haggar wants him to do.


	3. Year Two

Its been eighteen months since he has been captured by the Gahlra. Its Keiths birthday, he thinks. His son...he would be eight by now, second grade. Guilt floods him. Keith...he thinks he's an orphan. He thinks he's dead!

For the past eight months, he has been, by his definition, blind. He can't see. Everything is black, and he can't even see the changes in lighting. It unnerves him, since all of his childhood revolved around people studying the changes of light on his eyes.

He's learned to get by, though. The real torture began six months ago. Flogging, burning, electrocution, all of that was called experimenting. He can hear footsteps from down the hall, the sound of the silent ventilation system, and he could hear everything. His hearing and smell were finely attuned with the absence of his sight. He could tell where everything in the cell was without touching anything.

Now, he hears footsteps. He blindly and routinely gets up, remembering to stay silent. Speaking out of turn is only rewarded with more wounds to tend to. He feels the burn on his irritated wrists beneath metal cuffs. He hears the footsteps stop, and his door opening, Three guards. No Haggar.

"Bring him." Spats one of them. Two sets of footsteps grow louder, and suddenly cold, robotic hands are tightly gripping his malnourished arms. He can't help but tense as they sharply dig into his skin, probably leaving bruises. He stumbles forward as he's unceremoniously dragged, uncoordinated feet occasionally dragging on the cold floor. His mind memorizes the route. Left, right, left, left, right, up, up, right, diagonal left, left, right, stop.

The hands let go of him, and realizes that there are more people in here.

"Good luck." Snarks someone, and he can hear the electric door come up. He wavers on his feet, but suddenly new energy shoots through him. He feels a shift in the air, and can hear something move, but he's too slow as a fist suddenly connects with his face, loosening a tooth and making his lip bleed.

This is going to be fun.


	4. Year Three

Its been, by his count, exactly thirty-six months since he's been captured, so sixteen months since he's been made blind, and eighteen months since what he likes to call "training" has begun. Keith would be...ten. Or is it nine? Time felt different here. Time was especially more different for him, since he's reckoned the witches injections and serums have left him ageless now, permanently trapped at the age of twenty-five.

He senses the blow even before the move is made. He ducks and forward, hearing his opponent stumble, off balanced and unnerved at how quickly he had moved and predicted the attack, even though he was blind!

Haggar had definitely done something to him with the blindness. All of his other senses seemed finely tuned, beyond human, beyond animal. He could tastes the air. He could track down items by a normal sniff. He could feel the individual threads of the replicated shirt he wore, probably worn down to a faded grey by all the wear. And he could hear so finely, harsh breathing, clothed footsteps, the blink of an eyebrow and audible bending of joints. Sleeping was a pain, and he usually slept with his his hands clawing at his head, anything to make the noises stop.

He quickly drops down, using his foot to swipe his opponents legs from under him, before flipping onto his feet and simultaneously turning around and performing a roundhouse kick on whoever decided to sneak up on the blind Dark Prince.

Dark Prince. Thats what they decided to call him, after being first placed in the Arena ten months ago. The blind champion who could win any war, fight any battle. The Prince of the darkness, having mastered the dark realm to make himself undefeated. He could almost hear Kroalia's quiet chuckle.

He hears the roar of the audience as he wins yet another time, He can hear each individual voice, feel the thrum of the different frequency through his veins, making his mind thrum with the madness that infected the crows, cheering for blood blood blood.

Guards chain his hands and feet together, and he walks. Left, right, left, left, right...where were they going? His cell was left, not right. Panic flares in his throat and he slows down, only to have an electric prod stabbed into his back. His back arches at the pain, and he continues forward, back numb. Eventually, they make it to a place that smells like a hospital: sterile, organized, chemicals. He can feel the temperature drop by two point eight degrees Fahrenheit, and his hairs raise slightly. Gut feeling. He always trusts his gut.

He's strapped down to a table, and suddenly something explodes in his eyes. He screams as pain floods through his un-used orbs, making them feel as if they're on fire. Screams grow inhuman, then hoarser and hoarser until its a gently whimper. He feels the tears stream down his face, and his vision is blurry.

Vision.

He can see.

Startled, he rapidly blinks. They don't sting with the light. On the contrary, blindness seems to have affected them not at all, instead improve them. He cam see the faults in the ceiling, the lining of the wire, the tiny bubbles in the faraway container, fifty feet away.

"Ah, my Dark Prince has awaken! And he is the first to have survived this experiment, unlike the many failures before him. I think it must be his eyes, after all, those are the things that got the rest killed!" His hearing is the same, and his head hurts with the gurgle of liquids, whir of machinery, and the raspiness to the witches voice.

"You're the blind Champion of the ring, the Dark Prince. Yes. Now you truly shall be a Dark Prince. Quintessence is powerful in you, a form I have never seem before! In a few years time, you shall be ready to meet our Emperor." His blood runs cold. He's heard of Zarkon from the distant voices of slaves and guards, A tyrannical ruler of the Gahlra empire for over ten thousand years.

"Yes, I should think so." She traces the scar above his eye, and he closes his eyes, taking even breaths. "After all, it is he who gave the order to take you in." Haggar smiles a wicked, dark smile. "Yes. Your lord has much planned for you


	5. Year Four

He's given up keeping track of time. The only thing that keeps him going, to make his limbs move in the mist of a fight instead of letting his heart get impaled is the thought of Kroalia and Keith. That he might escape and see Keith some day, all grown up. That he would see Kroalia, somehow arriving wherever he was.

Keith would be ten. He looks like his mother. How does he know this?

Four hears ago, the Gahlra told him they had hacked into Earths cameras and electronics. They threatened him that escape would end up with them going after and killing his son.

Once a year, they would take him to this room, surrounded by a screen. And he would stand there for hours, watching whatever Keith would be doing. His boy had grown so much. His hair was in that mullet he loved so much, fringed falling over his dark eyes. He smiles. Today he was smiling at his best friend, that boy, Takashi, who was older than him.

It was torture.

After he left, something would happen. His memory of Keith would become faded, until all he could remember of those few hours is what he said. Not how he looked like, not how he sounded like. Just what he said, like a script.

It wasn't the only torture, no no no. Everyday Kenneth would look at himself, a monster. He killed for the pleasure of others. He fought and killed without mercy, drenching himself with blood. He even remembers, once, he had been fighting for so long, adrenaline fueling him, and he had laughed. Laughed at the fallen before him. An animalistic cheer. That scared him. That he would become like his captures: heartless amd sadistic,

Of course, they still tortured him. Quintessence followed by whips and liquid s and chemicals that burned his veins and would make his mouth stay open in a silent scream for hours.

Everyday, a thought lingers at the back of his mind. Zarkon, So long ago, Haggar told him that Zarkon had chosen him. Specifically. It was Zarkon's fault he was here, his fault that his boy was in danger. His fault Keith thought he was an orphan. He didn't want to meet Zarkon. He wanted to meet Zarkon. He didn't want to meet the man who tortured him so much, who had him basically trembling at his feet. He wanted to meet Zarkon, so that he could show Zarkon he had become the weapon of destruction, the Dark Prince that he wanted him to become, laughing as he would see the life drain from his eyes.

"Now, who are you?" Kenneth looks up from where he was leaning against the cell wall, arms crossed. In front of him stood a man with lavender skin, a lighter shade that any Gahlra he's seen, with long, pure white hair. His eyes were yellow, but not entirely, his pupils black and the irises almost blending in with his yellow's, except for the hint of brown that was held in them.

"Kenneth. Kenneth Kogane." The man's eyebrows raise a little bit. He looked a bit...strange. He wasn't wearing armor, but instead a loose, tunic styled black off-white shirt with black pants, slight padding on the knees. It was unnerving to him. He was so used to seeing either aliens in orison garb or Gahlra in armor, it was a bit of a shock to see someone dressed so..casually. The outfit was styled for a humanoid, but the style was not relatively like that of Earth.

"Lotor." Says the man. He cocks his head. "Why are you not wearing the garb of the other prisoners?" Kenneth looks down at his outfit.

"The witch thought early on that I was...different." He says. "As if I needed something to put me apart other that my species." Lotor nods.

"I must admit, I have never seen any of your kind, whatever species they may be." His eyes were intelligent and a bit cold, but not aristocratic or cruel. "And I can see why the hag takes a liking to you. Your eyes are quite unique. Am Incorrect to say that they just shifted to a lighter shade of brown?" Kenneth nods. He couldn't see his own eyes, but he could always sense to what they changed to, since he did have control over it.

"That is-"

"Unnatural. Interesting. Creepy. Yah, I've heard it all." Lotor lightly frowns.

"I was going to say 'magnificent'. To forewarn you, I do not nor will I ever look at you in the way of the deepest form of love" both himself and Kenneth smile at that, "but I do find them rather beautiful." Kenneth chuckles. It feels weird. He hasn't laughed in years!

"Thank you, darlin'." He says, and now Lotor smiles.

"Follow me, my friend. I don't usually seek companionship with prisoners, but seeing you have had the misfortune of being a favorite of Haggar and myself being quite lonely, maybe we could find a sliver of friendship with one another." He puts his hand on a lock pad, and the electric purple bars disappear. Lotor smiles, teeth smooth. He wasn't full Gahlra.

"Okaaay..." stretches Kenneth, warily following Lotor. Was this real, or just some ploy? Whatever it was, he decides to risk and follow the man.


	6. Year Five

He screams in pain, pulling against the chains that bind his wrists and ankles to his cell wall. Haggar decided to make this torture a bit closer to home, which translates to his cell. His vision goes white as another jolt of electricity goes up his spine. He can year the burn of skin and the crackle of static in the air, but he doesn't care. All he can feel is the all consuming pain flooding his shirtless, half-naked body.

"Mistress, are you sure the procedure should be done here?" He can barely hear the voice of the only druid that was in the cell over the buzz in his ears. The druid that was electrocuting him.

"Yes." She says. "The electricity has already temporarily affected the Dark Princes nerves. Phase three shall commence." His muscles don't react to his will to move, instead trembling. The Phases.

Phase Three.

Phase Once spanned from when he arrived here to nearly two years. That was the torture, his psychological breaking, as well as the stopping of his age with the daily doses of quintessence. Good for them, they succeeded. He was a broken shell of what used to be Kenneth Ethan Kogane.

Phase Two was from year two to year three, almost four. That was making him blind. The quintessence plus some other chemicals made all of his senses heighten. He could hear anything, feel groves in the smoothest panel of metal, trace smells while breathing normally. He could fight the best gladiators, and being them onto their knees. He could fight more than one person without giving a damn because they had made him into a weapon in his blindness. And over a year after he thought he would be blind forever, his sight was given back, as sharp and accurate as a hawks. It wasn't always accurate, it had to be activated an made hhis pupils become larger and his eyes a lights shade of brown, but at least he could see a speck of dust miles away.

And now they were going tondo Phase Three. In a dirty cell.

He's jot ready when a clawed hand wrenches his jaw open, and pain shoots through the bone. Its not dislocated, but the pain is great, eyes watering at the smell of burning flesh till lingering in the air. The buzzing is still there.

"Begin." Says the witch, and suddenly he screams. His teeth feel like they're being bombarded with missiles, pane shooting up his gums and through his nerves. He can't raise his hands to wrench away the claws that were inside his mouth. He can feel something on top of his teeth, his canines growing. After what feels like hours, the hand moves.

Kenneth sits there, head bowed, deep breaths. The taste of blood is in his mouth, and he lets it dribbled down his mouth.

"Check his pulse, then report to me." Hisses Hagagr, leaving. The Druid looks down at him, disgust behind the mask. He reaches a clawed hand to his neck, but something feral in him rises, and he snarls, head snapping forward and biting of the druid's finger tips.

A horrible scream fills the air as the druid looks down in shock at bloody stumps, before looking at Kenneth, who spits out the bloodied lumps of flesh, bone, and blood.

"You insufferable beast!" The druid storms out of the cell, but then he's back, with something in his hand. "You're a wild beast, a feral weapon. Your a creature, and should therefor be treated as one!" He see's whats in his bloody hand.

A muzzle.

Kennth can't move back, chains too tight. Black electricity is shot at him and he screams, tongue touching his teeth and a thin cut opening. What did they do to him?

His jaw is forced shut as the muzzle clamps down on his face. His head is sharply wrenched forward as straps are painfully tightened around the back of his head, tears streaming down his face. A flexible, tight thick wire runs across the bridge of his nose and the top of his cheeks before becoming a synthetic leather like strap. Another is bellow his chin, wrapping around his neck. Another strap is bellow his ears, and another goes up the length of his nose before tightly resting in his hair, going straight down the back of his head to join with a clasp at the base of his head.

"Now be a good little monster." Hisses the druid before exiting, leaving Kenneth in tears. He was a monster; he never denied it. He stays there for seconds, minutes, maybe hours. He couldn't tell. A horrible noise, close to gagging fills his throat as he starts to choke on the blood that was in his mouth. My was his tongue bleeding so much? What did they do to his teeth?

"Ethan? Ethan! What happened?" He looks up to see someone approach him through blurry vision. He manages to move back against the wall, ignoring the pain in his exposed back. He whimpers.

"What happened to you? Don't move." He trembles as he feels cool hands touch his wrists, then smooth sound of a blade being unsheathed, and then the slicing of metal through metal. Soon, pressure is gone from his wrist and ankles. His head goes light, and he's about to fall forward when hands rest on his shoulders. He goes tense.

"Rest, my friend. I am going to take care of you. Rest." And Ethan closes his eyes.

Lotor enters the cell. This was strange. It was open. His eyes immediately go to his friend, who was on the ground. "Ethan? Ethan! What happened?" Kenneth Kogane has been his friend for over one Earth year, now.

He could tell, at first, that the Earthling had been hesitant about Lotor's will to becomes companions. It soon evaporated after Lotor had beheaded a guard who was swinging a ball-and-chain above his head, looking over a near unconscious Kenneth who had cuts, growing bruises, and broken bones all over him.

Now, without anyone knowing, Lotor had become his friend, referring to him as Ethan or Eth'ean, as its closely translated in the lost language of Altaea, he would check in on him, talk about their respective lives, and Lotor would also sometimes take Kenneth to his quarters, where they would play games or Lotor would simply let him rest in an actual bed.

Now he was scared, the heir of the Gahlra empire, scared. His friend, the bravest, kindest, most skillful man he had ever seen was now defeated on the ground, cowering, with a muzzle on his face.

Quickly, he takes out his long dagger, expertly cutting then cuffs on his ankles and wrists. Kenneth is about to fall forward, but he stops him with light hands on his shoulders.

"Rest, my friend. I am going to take care of you. Rest." And he closes his eyes. The taller man picks him up, making sure he doesn't touch the burns on his back. He runs down the passageways until he comes to his door.

"Come on, come on!" He whispers urgently as it scans his retina. The door hisses open and he rushes in, quickly carrying his to the bathroom. He set s him down on the light purple color tiled floor. He was gagging behind the muzzle, choking. Currently brass colored eyes are open in then light, pupils dilated. Lotor quickly undoes the clasps on the muzzle, the bands snapping out from the tightness, and when it comes away in his hands, Kenneth quickly gets up, turning around amd throwing up into the sink.

Lotor stands up, gently rubbing his back as he spits out a large amount of blood into the sink. Kenneth was his friend, and had grown into something like a brother or a cousin to him, ignoring the differences in their age and species. It takes nearly ten Earth minutes, but Kenneth stops throwing up blood, heavily leaning against the sink, face pale and breaths coming ragged.

"Eth'ean, are you okay?"

"N-no, gahn t'ere san." Lotor raises an eyebrow in mild surprise. He and Kenneth had been looking over an Altaen learning program they had found, surprisingly, in Haggar's lab. They were learning it together, and he was surprised to hear him reply with a common-tongue "no", followed by an "I'm not okay" in Altaen.

"I'll get you some water." He says, leaving Kenneth to wash out his mouth. Kenneth watches as Lotor leaves, before furiously swishing water in his mouth before spitting it out. He leans forward, breathing heavy, and opens his mouth. His eyes widen. The edges of his teeth are lined with a light silver, almost tooth white material. Metal. He gently presses his thumb against it, and blood instantly wells up from a thin cut. His two canines had sharpened and become slightly longer, separating themselves from the other teeth, two on the bottom, two on the top.

He steps back, and he can hear Lotor coming back. After a few moments, Lotor is back, pressing a crustal cup filled with clear water into his hand. Kenneth nods his gratitude and drinks, ignoring the pain from the burns on his back and the slight buzzing in his ears.

"Do you want me to get a salve for the burns?" Says Lotor. Kenneth shakes his head.

"You've done 'nough for me already. I have to get back before they return. Incan't have 'em wondering why I ain't in there." Lotor nods. "And don't follow me. I can make it back myself." The halfling opens his mouth to protest, but closes it.

"That is a wise decision, my friend. But might I ask, are you positive you are alright?" Kenneth's eyes are dull in color and emotion, given up.

"Was I ever?" He simply replies, before exiting the bathroom and walking past Lotor, exiting the Prince's room before walking down the memorized hall's back down to the cell that he had become so familiar with.


	7. Year Six

"On one side, we have the big, strong, mighty Zentok!" The audience cheers as a twenty-five foot tall, red skinned giant walks into the arena, swinging a mace that crackles with electricity, and flourishing the rigid cartilage spikes that rise from his back. "And his opponent is the undefeated, dark and quick, merciless Dark Prince!" The people who often come to the ring cheer, but the newer audience members laugh with Zentok as a small man walks onto the field, dwarfed by Zentok.

The man is a mere six foot three, wearing an all black, faded outfit. He wears a tattered, hooded cloak that reaches his ankles, covering most of his body with the lack of movement. Right before the fight begins, the man looks up, meeting Zentok's acidic yellow eyes. The Dark Prince wears a black cloth mask over the bottom hakf of his face, hood covering everything except for his eyes, which shine violet before rippling into gold, a deep scar above the right eye.

"FIGHT!" Yells the commentary.

Zentok only has time to take a step forward before the Prince quickly flourishes a knife in each hand, running forward, cloak flying out behind him. He throws the two knives at Zentok's dominant right hand, and his grip weakens as the weight falls onto his left. He roars in rage at his bleeding right hand. That was all the Dark Prince needed.

The mace ball is about to land on him, but at the last moment, the Prince's right leg folds, sliding underneath the giants legs while simultaneously unsheathing a hidden, thin sword. He quickly spins onto his feet behind Zentok, who turns around in rage as he quickly cuts his calves. The apparently mighty Zentok crashes the ball of his mace onto the ground again, only to have the Dark Prince agilely evade it and run up the thick chains, leaping onto the Giants shoulders before stabbing his sword into the Giants head until only the hilt sticks out.

The audience grows silent as the giant wavers, before falling forward, dead, the Dark Prince still balanced on him, moving so that he stands on his back when he falls face down on the ground. He pulls the sword out, raising the thin, bloodstained blade into the air with his dominant left hand, roaring with the audience.

Meanwhile, Zarkon looks down from his booth. To his right is Haggar, his wife in secret, and to his left Lotor, his son, who had a strange expression on his face.

"Haggar, I have to admit, you have done well with this new weapon of yours."

"Yes, my lord. He is made to be the greatest the Empire has to offer." Lotor's face turns to his father's, his eyebrows furrowed.

"But father, how can one man become the greatest in the empire? Haggar has said herself that the experiments conducted on this specimen (he hates himself for calling his friend that) will not be replicable on any other being!" Zarkon looks down at his son, a evil smile spreading across his twisted face.

"Lotor, so much like your mother." Haggar doesn't move to show she heard. "I have no need of replicating what Haggar has done to this man. What this merely shows is that we can move onto the next phase. Phase Four." Haggar looks at Zarkon with surprise.

"My lord, I mean no disrespect, but I doubt that Dark Prince's biology will react well with what you have planned out to be phase Four." Zarkon growls.

"Then what do you suggest!"

"I suggest", she says in that cold, raspy voice, watching as the Dark Prince is pitted against five new opponents, who are quickly taken down, "that we conduct phase five before phase four. The sequencing is logical." Zarkon thinks for a moment, before nodding.

"Yes, I agree. Haggar, you never fail to please me. You shall indeed commence Phase Five, now Four, before the originally planned Phase Four." A cold feeling settles in Lotor's gut. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

"And Lotor" says his father, "I need you to go to star system forty-three C. There seems to be a rebellion on the planet Kryptenion that I am rather bored with. Destroy the planet." Lotor nods.

"As you wish father." He gets up, knowing he has to leave right away. Kryptenion was eleven months away, about a month to plan and destroy the planet, and another eleven months to return. Two years. That removes all plans of him helping Kenneth out with the torture that is to come.

He walks down the stairs instead of the elevator, so that he could go to the gates on the ground floor, the gates to the Arena floor. He can see Kenneth, valiantly fighting. Life or death.

"Eth'ean" he whispers, knowing he could hear him, as his head turns his way. "I'm going to be gone for two years. Zarkon and Haggar have something horrible plan for you. Don't forget you're human. Don't forget emotion. Eta dote, moi alghor." Kenneth fakes messing up his footing and stumbles backward until he's ten feet away from Lotor on the other side of the gate. In one smooth arc of his sword, he's slit the throats of all five opponents.

"I love you too, my brother." He says, amd then his eyes tell Lotor to leave, that he will remember, but then he says something.

"Krolia and Keith. Remember." Lotor nods. If ever come across, don't hurt.

"I know, little brother." He says to the human, and then he finally leaves, wanting the two years to quickly get done with.


	8. Authors Happy and Desperate Note

**Alright, so, bare with me, I have _almost_ this entire fic finished, just have to get the conclusion down right. I probably will have a sequel, but no promises! So, thank you'all for reading. I honestly didn't think this would be so popular, but here we are.**

 **I'm typing this on my ipad, so I can't really type down the names of everyone that has supported me through six years of Kenneths captivity, but you guys know who you are, so you deserve a gold star! So, right after here is year seven, and _please please please_ : if you have any ideas for a nice identity reveal to Keith and Krolia, please don't hesitate to comment! Cause the one I have written down is so cheesy, LOL. He he**

 **-Red Wayne Hood**


	9. Year Seven

"Sit." Commands Lord Zarkon from the end of the table. Kenneth glances at the guards positioned at each exits before sitting down. The guards were nervous. These weren't the robot ones, but real Gahlra, with blood pounding beneath their necks, calling, yearning, for blood. He clenches his fists underneath the table, neck straining with will. The concentration was evident on his face, apparently.

"I do hope phase four went without any complications?"

"No, my lord." He replies. Surprisingly, the Druids had made him unconscious before conducting their next painful experiment on him. Sometimes, he wishes he was awake. At least then he could understand a little bit of what they did to him. Now, his head pounds with feelings that aren't his. Lust for blood, the smell being spilt on the arena floor making his senses catch aflame. He has to stop himself from just killing someone slowly and painfully, watching the life drain from their eyes as they plea for mercy, heartbeats slowing, and then the warm blood running down his throat...

"Show them to me." Says the Emperor, cutting through a purple peace of meat before slowly chewing it. Kenneth is reluctantly it hurts, throbbing even now. He pits his hands on the cold table, a shiver of pleasure ringing through his hands at the cold that helps ease the burn in his hands.

His pale hands are bandaged with strips of black cloth, covering his palms and fingers. He hesitates before mentally feeling a pulse in each of his finger tips, the pulse growing stronger and hotter. He doesn't bite his lip as claws emerge from each of his finger tips, a dark purple color thats as long as the distance between his fingertips and the closest finger joint. They quickly glow violet-white with power, and he digs into the table up to his finger tips, cutting through solid metal and making his fingers drip blood, which bubbled and fried with the heat.Then, before he starts to seriously burn his skin, he deactivates them, not looking as his claws slide back into his fingers.

Zarkon hums with delight. "Magnificent, absolutely magnificent. I knew my plan would be good and a success. Correct, am I not?"

"Yes, my Lord." Says Kenneth automatically, and he nods.

"Disciplined, too." He tells himself, as if Kenneth wasn't there. "Unlike my son Lotor, who can't even properly rule with an iron fist!' Now Kenneth was getting a bit creeped out, which never happens. He's been through enough to last lifetimes, enough to have close-to-no fears. "I know the prisoner code given to you, but what is your name?" He bets Zarkon knew that answer.

"Kenneth. Kenneth Ethan Kogane, sir." Zarkon nods, putting another piece of food in his mouth,

"Eth'ean." Kenneth freezes. Altaen. Of course he knew some Altaen! Zarkon was Lotor's dad, who was half Altaen. So his wife, if he even has one, must of been Altaen. "That is your name now. Eth'ean. It was the middle name of the last king of Altaea, King Alfor." Something not cruel shine's in Zarkon's eyes. Regret. But then it's covered up again. "That name has been passed down through generation and generation, originating from the name Ethe'lian. Its an uncommon name, meaning either royal, hunter, wolf, or prince." He oaises, and Kenneth takes this as a sign for him to speak.

"Thank you, Lord Zarkon", a lie, "but why do you have such interest in me?" Zarkon smiles an evil, pointed toothed smile. Four canines. Just like Kenneth.

"I have planned out your entire timeline. An Altaen-Gahlran prophecy once said that an alien man who holds the only eyes will be either the greatest warrior of the Altaens or the Gahlra in a time of war between the Gahlra and the last of the Altaens. That means that Voltron is still out there, with the last Altaens, ready to fight us." The greatest warrior. The Alteans and the Gahlra. Kenneth face visibly pales and his pupils dilate.

"Yes, I see you have realized!" He gets up, walking around the table, red cloak brushing against the ground, until he stands behind Kenneth-no, now Eth'ean, resting a clawed purple hand on his shoulder. Kenneth feels nauseas. His teeth are like Zarkon's, his hands to. And the feeling in his blood...not his. All of this, it's a reflection of Zarkon.

"You should feel honored! You are bing made better, stronger. You are a warrior, just as the crowds cheer! You are the pearl of the Empire, and when Voltron comes, we will be ready. Because you will defeat it, each and every one of its false Paladins.

"My Lord-"

"No." Says Zarkon, and there's something new in his tone, something that scares Kenneth to the bone. "Never call me Lord every again. You are a warrior, not a servant. You are the Dark Prince Eth'ean, the half-blood prince of the Gahlra Empire!"

"B-but I'm entirely human." Says Kenneth quietly, the spot on his shoulder where Zarkon's hand rests feeling colder and colder, as if ice is being pressed down up it.

"Yes. You're parents are human, the ones before them, and so on." Says the corrupted Emperor. "And that is why we had phase five." Phase five. Phase five has started. And he didn't even know...

"You're biological lineage may be entirely of Earth, but not you're quintessence. Since one Earth month ago, phase five has begun. And what is it? Something small, but huge. You're quintessence injections. You see, you're no longer being pumped with regular quintessence. Since phase two, you have been developing a startling change in your quintessence. A mixture, so to say. You have the quintessence needed in each of the Paladins of Voltron. In the days of old, the maximum one person had was three. Alfor had that blessing, and was able to chose between the Red, Black, and Green Lion's before choosing Red. And you? You have the quintessence for all. Five. Lions."

"What did you do to me?" Says Kenneth. This was already too much for him, realizing that he was even more set out than ever. That he was becoming the most powerful weapon of destruction, and that he would have no choice but to do evil.

"When Haggar was commanded to initiate phase Five a month ago, signs didn't show until two weeks later, in the arena." The first time he slowly killed someone, smiling as they shocked, clawing at his hands. "In Phase Five, we slowly started to mix the quintessence until you were on an entirely new...how should I say it? Prescription." He gently runs a hand through Kenneth's hair, as if petting a dog. "You are now being injected with my quintessence. You have the quintessence of all the Paladins, as well as mine, the Emperor of the Gahlra Empire. You are now human and Gahlra in quintessence. You are Prince Eth'ean, the prophetic greatest of the Empire, the heir to the throne of the Gahlra Empire." Heir to the throne. Heir to Zarkon. Heir of a tyrant. "You are now my son."


	10. Year Eight

**P.S: I hope this chapter helps you better visualize our precious kenneth! New outift!**

 **P.P.S: _Anyone_ is free to use Kenneth Ethan Kogane in a Voltron fic. Just give me the link in the Comments!**

If he thought being Zarkon's son would be easy, he was as wrong as slavery is. A large stretch of time later, and he's still fighting in the Arena, still being tortured and flogged and teased by the sentinels and guards, and still ultimately, being treated as a slave. There was a noticeable difference.

Every match would be watched by Zarkon.

Every match would be approved by Zarkon.

Every guard that made him pass-out from the pain was killed by Zarkon.

Where Lotor used to be be the once constant in his lonely life, Zarkon now filled out the spot, acting, dare he think it, fatherly, as much as a tyrant could be. The food he was given wasn't scraps anymore, but it was still unappetizing and he was still underweight for a man his height, build, and muscle.

Right now, he's sitting against the wall, head tilted back as he breaths ragged breaths as he traces a single heated claw over a considerably deep slash in his side, filling the air with burning skin and blood. Then, he pulls down his shirt, not even bothering with zippering the vest. He hears something. Footsteps and cloth occasionally brushing on the ground. The steps of guards stopping in unison, before starting again as the steps become louder. He knows who it is.

"Stand."He only shows minimal pain, using a blood covered hand as a support to drag himself up the wall before turning to properly face the man on the other side of the cell. The electric bars disappear, and Zarkon still stands there. 'Obviously' he tells himself. He pushes the pain to the back of his mind before moving away from the wall, walking to Zarkon, body stiff. If the Emperor notices, he doesn't saw, before walking down the hallway, Kenneth walking behind him.

"Eth'ean, it is time you learn how to be a ruler, a Dark Prince." They turn, walking up an ascending hall before entering a lift. "We have already created you're armor. You will be disciplined in the way of ruling with an iron hand, ready to take the throne at any mistake Lotor has."

"Thank you, Father." He says. Zarkon was not his father. He wasn't anyone he appreciated. He enslaved civilization, captured and tortured him, took him away from an orphaned Keith, and forcibly molded him into a new person.

"Remind me what type of accent yours is called?"

"Country. Rural." Zarkon nods. For some reason, he found Kenneth's accent very pleasant.

Soon, they are in the throne room at the top of the ship they are on, the room huge and menacing, with a dark throne in the middle. In the center of the throne room is a Gahlra woman flanked by guards, a large box in front of them.

"My lord." Says the woman, bowing. "Repid sa." She says, as well as the two guards.

"Repid sa." Says Zarkon, He looks at Kennth out of the corner of his eyes. He was giving Kenneth the honor of saying the moto last, usually reserved for the highest ranking person in the room.

"Repid sa." He says. Zarkon nods, and they stop infront of the woman and her box.

"Plais, this is my son, Eth'ean." Plais looks intrigued.

"What species did you breed with to get him? His skin is so pale, white almost. And his eyes! They're white, with a magnificent golden-brown iris. His hair is splendid; feathery, fluffy, light, and the color that is brown with different strands of light and darker shades in the background!" She holds one of his ears. "In the name of the Empire: they're round!"

"Plais, he is half human." He says, "An Earthling." He quickly glares at the short woman, who lets go of Kenneth's ear and quickly steps back, back straight, face serious. "I'm assuming this is it?" She nods.

"It was harder than Prince Lotor's, but I managed. I think he will look very striking, regal, and handsome, just like his father." Zarkon smiles, squeezing Kenneths shoulder. Maybe he did have some kindness in him after all.

The guards bend over, removing the lid from the box after typing in a code. Plais continues to talk. "Kin is very, very pale, as you know. It will contrast more greatly with the palette, truly making him a, what had you said? Yes, a Dark Prince. He will look so fine, people will think of him as the physical manifestation of the name Eth'ean!" She quickly gets to work.

Kenneth never gets to see the outfit she puts on him, due to fact he has to be very still to get the perfect fit. Plais works quickly, putting the armor on top of the signature black clothing he wears. Its only after five minutes that she says the word.

"Done." A shadow of a smile is on Zarkon's face as he turns him around, and he see's that the lid is propped against the bottom of the bow, inside facing him, which turned out to be a full sized mirror.

He wears all black. Flexible metal laced black boots reach to below his knees. The armor is also black, so deep of a color that it blends in with the space outside of the window. It doesn't look bulky, instead a close fit. It turns into a metal laced cloth at his torso, shoulders, and neck. A black belt is buckled around his torso, the lapels of the cloth covering the stretch of leg between his hips and the top of his knees, a sheath for multiple knives strapped to his left lef The cloth on his neck is tight, accenting his collarbones and reaching mid-neck, where it stood with a lining of metallic dark purple cloth. His sleeves are black with dark red, almost black lining the color of blood, stopping at his elbow, showing off the scars on his arms. His hands have skin-tight black gloves, the tips of his fingers soft and malleable to help for when the claws come out. The grandest part of the outfit is a hooded black cloak, draped across his back amd pushed over his shoulders, held by a silver clasp in the shape of a 'V' right below his collarbone. The cloak is stylized, looking older than the rest of the outfit and cut to look tattered. At his neck hangs a piece of black cloth. He pulls on the hood, pulling up the mask, which wraps around the back of his head from below the ears, the front covering the bottom half of his face.

Honestly, he looked a bit scary, with death pale skin only his eyes showing on top of pale skin, brown with an old, deep scar above the right eye.

"You have done good." Says Zarkon. Plais nods.

"It is my best work."

"Good. You will never make better." And in an instance, his beyard is out, transformed into sword, and in a single arc, Plais and the guards are killed. He steps over their bodies, walking to his throne, Kenneth following. He didn't like the outfit, no matter how good it looked. It made him scarier, like Zarkon. He was already forced to have too much similarities with the tyrant.

"My son", says Zarkon, "I am proud. All of my plans are coming to life. I shall personally teach you Gahlra etiquette all in one year."

"And what about the next year?" Zarkon chuckles darkly, tugging Kenneth's hold down and ruffling his hair.

"Next year, I will send you out to find the Lion's, so that you know them, and you will be ready when they attack. And why not keep them?" He grins, tracing his teeth with his tongue. "So then when the Paladins attack, they will be in shock when they realize that we have you, someone that the Lions recognize, the true Paladin of Voltron." Kenneth's heart sinks. This is real. All of this is true now. Its his life. He will never see Krolia again, he will never see another human being...

He'll never see Keith again.

And with that thought, a wave of darkness hits his mind, and he falls, Zarkon catching him and roaring for Haggar.


	11. Year Nine

**Well, what'd I miss? *nervously laughs* Well I'm back with another chapter! I actually had this typed up for a few weeks, maybe a few months...but thats not important! So heres Year 9 and, for a little treat,a little scene with Keith in it!**

Kenneth pilots the fast ship, powered by a Balmeran crystal. He lands the ship on a forestry planet, amd he walks. Walks as days past by, his source of food berries and fruit, and he doesn't even know if they're edible. He doesn't care anymore. All there is is a large, gaping hole in his heart.

After weeks, he comes to a lake, where there is about and a...sloth. A large, brown sloth standing on two legs. "Um...hello, there." He says. The cloth looks up and beckons at him. He carefully walks over twigs and branches until he's in the boat.

The sloth pulls out a large, stick like pole and starts to push the boat forward. He's reminded of a time when he was little, a pair of Italian scientists had taken him to Venice, where he had gotten to ride in a gondola. But then the driver had seen his eyes change from brown to yellow in delight, and had jumped off the boat, so...yah.

After about an hour, the boat stops at the steps of a large, pyramid like temple with roots and plants climbing all over it. He nods his thanks before getting out, walking up the steps of the temple.

And he's falling.

And falling.

And falling.

And he lands. Of course, he's nimble about it. He twists in the air, doing a flip before landing on the balls of his feet, knees bent, a hand on the ground, and cloak splayed out behind. He looks up and his breath is taken away.

Its a lion. A large, mechanical, green and white lion, who's head is bent down, yellow eyes staring at him. And then it moves, making him stumble back as it head suddenly touches the ground, mouth opening. A ramp.

Something in him is suspicious, but then this is a lion of Voltron. Its piloted and has a mind of its own, but the pilot still needs a way to enter. He tentatively moves, walking in. The ramp leads him up and into a small passageway. It forces him to turn around and through a set of doors.

They open automatically, and he's in the cockpit.

Around him, green lights appearing, lighting up the cockpit. Holographic screens appear, and he sits down in the chair, hands resting on the controls, but he snatches them back, resting them on his legs.

'Who are you?' There's a voice in his head. But its not a voice. Its the Lion, he just knows it.

'You are smart.'

"Hello." He says. "I...I'm not your Paladin."

'I know.'

"Then why did you let me in?" He hears a gentle purr, and then a brush of warmth against his legs, as if a cat is brushing against them in comfort.

'You have the quintessence of all the Paladins. I know who you are, what you are, and what your story is, Kenneth Ethan Kogane. I know who my Paladin will be, a human. Just like you.' He's happy, but then dread. He'd have to fight his own people, unwillingly.

"W-when will they...when will they find you?"

'Three years, along with four other humans.' Great. All of them are human.

"C-can you leave them a message?"

'Yes. When shall I show it to her?'

"...when its time. When they have-" he takes a deep breath, "when they have to meet me."

'Goodbye, then, Paladin.' He gets up, smiling.

"Thank you." And he leaves.

The Yellow Lion is warm and caring. She talks to him about what happened to him in the last nine years, and for the first time in nearly a decade, he allows his tears to freely fall. He gives it the same message.

The Red Lion recognizes him, and snatches him inside her with a tractor beam. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy, and the Lion tells him of the many ways the Paladins will make Zarkon fall. It also says to never give up hope on family, because no one knows when they'll surprise you. He gives it the same message.

The Black Lion is in a Castle in a planet of cute, tiny little alien villagers. They've heard of him, and draw pictures of him and poke at his face and ooh and aah when he makes his eyes change in gradient from acidic yellow to warm bronze, the brown, then the dark purple. The Black Lion considers him a Paladin more than the other three. It actually roars in outrage when it learns what Zarkon did to him, injecting him with his quintessence, making him his heir, torturing and experimenting on him. He gives it the same message.

The Blue Lion.

The Blue Lion is on Earth. He lands on Earth, and he see's, on the ridge, his house. He talks to the Blue Lion, and it tames his emotions, telling him soothing words of comforts, and that it will pass on the message to it's Paladin when its time. He leaves the Lion, and runs. He runs and runs until he's at his house, and he enters.

Keiths not there. Then he remembers something from the visual room, knowing what Keith is doing but never able to remember his face or voice. He was in school. The Garrison.

He sits down on a dusty chair, looking at the maps on the wall, the picture's of him and Keith. The house was very small, but so many god memories filled it. He remembers that Keiths favorite animal was a Lion, and that when he was little, he made Kenneth make origami lions for him. That was the only thing he knew how to fold, just for Keith.

So he makes origami Lion's, a red, yellow, green, blue, and black one, the black the largest then the yellow, then the blue, red, and green. He he takes out a sticky note and writes one word on it: Voltron. Then he leaves, walking back to his ship and leaving the Earth, tears falling down his face and soaked up by his mask.

Four years later...

Keith walks to his room in the Castle of Lions, locking the door. He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a box. Inside of the box are five, old origami lions, in a style he only related to one person. And in front of them is crumpled sticky note with the word Voltron on it, written in a handwriting so very similar to his own. A tear joins hundreds of other dried up ones on the sticky notes.

Dad.


	12. Year Ten

Two more years. Two more years and he will see humans again. He sits lazily on Zarkon's throne, an elbow on an armrest with his hand supporting his head, a leg slung over the other armrest. He yawns. Its been years since he's yawned. Zarkon made him sit on the throne while, Kenneth blood boils, while he enslaved another planet, one more planet close to Earth. Suddenly, the throne room doors open, and his closing eyes snap open. His mouth drops in shock, and his face morphs into delight, and then into a frown.

"Two years, you say, but noooo, you had to leave me with daddy dearest for three!" He slides off the throne, and Lotor runs at him, the slightly taller man pulling the human into a bone crushing hug. The armor shifts beneath him. It was malleable metal, more like metal clothes than armor.

"Kenneth! I apologize greatly for leaving you to my father's cruel mercy for three years! I...I couldn't destroy the entire planet. I was able to let most of the ships escape before destroying the planet." He pulls away, holding the younger by the shoulders. His skin had grown an unearthly pale, his brown eyes holding so much sorrow, pain, and an emptiness.

"What happened to you, little brother?" He says, looking over Kenneth.

"You know what happened." He says quietly. All of his happiness had suddenly evaporated, his emotions suddenly leaving him amd turning him into a shell. Lotor hesitates before nodding.

"I'm sorry." He says. He see's a tear fall down his face. "I am so very sorry." And he pulls him back into a hug, holding his head to his shoulder. And Kenneth spills. The claws, the arena, the torture. The open declaration of being his heir, twisting the friendly name Lotor had given him. Zarkon's quintessence, the Lions, the prophecy, the origami.

"I-I can't take this anymore." Says Kenneth, pulling away and quickly pacing, digging his hands in his hair. "I don't want to live anymore. I don't want to live anymore. I can't wait two more years, or three. I just, I can't I can't I can't." Lotor closes his eyes, before opening them, sadness in his eyes.

"You...you can put yourself in a coma. You will be asleep, for as long as you want, and you will know when to wake up. You said the Lions talked to you? Then speak to them. Ask them for this favor, and I will be there to greet you when you open your eyes." He holds him, this time Lotor letting a tear fall. "Now concentrate." And he does.

Kenneth spreads his mind, until five others touch him. A warm touch, a cool breeze, an earthen smell, an intelligent laugh, and a caring purr.

'Sleep' says the Blue Lion.

'Your time will come' says Red.

'We will watch over you' says Yellow.

'Rest.' Says Green.

'Your time will come' says Black, 'and you will rise and defeat those you hate. Sleep.'

And he does. He goes limp into Lotor's arms, thinking about all he's went through. Experiments. Starvation. Flogging. Rape. Torture of all sorts. Lotor sets him back on the throne before calling for the guards. He was asleep. He wouldn't wake up. And he would stay that way for three years


	13. Year Eleven

**Just published three chapters in less than an hour. Yay!this chapter is a filler chapter for Yr 11, since our beloeved, tortured, lil' bean Kenneth is still comatized. So whos the next nest guy? Shiro!!**

Escape. Escape was all that matters. Takashi Shirogane runs down the halls of the ship that served as his prison for nearly a year, that made his face marred by a long scar and a lock of his hair turn white from the experience. He hears the guards.

One two three...

He enters a room, quickly, and sighs. And the lights turn on and he spins around, right arm held out in front of him, hand alight. But then he see's it, in the middle of the room, a bed. A bed with a person on it, a quintessence feed, monitor, and nutrients drip all attached to him. Curiosity takes over the former Garrison pilot, and he walks forward.

It was a human.

He wears all black, from an armor sort of top to knee high metal boots, to a strapped on sheath with throwing knives and a sheathed sword, to the cloak that separates him from the bed.

Why did his face look so familiar?

It was a handsome face, with the palest skin he has ever seen. It was snow white, which was very unhealthy, more pale than Keith's lightly tanned face. There was an old, deep scar above his right eye, his hair brown with shades of lighter and darker shades.

He looked like Keith.

But Shiro can't ponder about this mystery man. He has to go to Earth, and tell them about the Gahlra and Voltron, to get ready. He will come back for whoever this was and Matt and Sam.

So Shiro runs, never looking back as he steals a pod and fly's back to Earth. The memory of the man is pushed to the recesses of his mind when he fly's through the atmosphere, crash landing into Earth, outside the Garrison.


	14. Year Twelve

**The last filler chapter, in which Lotor is a good bwothah!**

"Voltron has been formed so many times, yetwe haven't awakened our Dark Prince yet!" Roars Zarkon at the Druids, who dare not speak back. "We are losing sector's, all because you can't get one person to wake up! And it has only been three months since Voltron was first formed!"

Lotor silently exits the room as Zarkon takes his wrath our on the Druids. He walks down the halls until he reaches him.

"Hello." He says, taking his cold, barely warm hand in his. The monitor beeps continuously, in unison with his soft inhales and exhales. "Please, wake up soon. I can't keep up this charade of being on my father's side, faking my hatred of Voltron. Please. Wake up." A voice suddenly speaks in his head.

'Only when it's time'.

"Kenneth?" He say's, but he's still asleep. Lotor sighs, stroking his hair before exiting, taking one last glance before exiting. He thinks. His best friend was destined to either take down or make the Gahlra empire rise. He was comatose, and he would be forced to take down Voltron. Lotor's hands clench as he thinks of what he will have to do, something he never wants to do.

Voltron has to be taken down to make the Empire rise. Zarkon has to die to make the Empire fall. He looks out into space. He'll make Zarkon fall. He'll make the Empire end. He'll join Voltron. But there's a risk. His father will find out, and he will have to take Voltron down.

"I have to defeat Voltron, anyway I can." He says to himself. "Not for myself, not for the Empire, but for Kenneth, so that he doesn't have to.


	15. Chapter One

**These will now be called chapters since his twelve years with no Voltron are gone. Now, take a moment to respect Kenneth Kogane. Twelve fu*ing years of torture...okay. Heres chapter one.**

for the sake of the story, Zarkon survived, Lotor never betrayed the Paladins and is a sworn ally of Voltron, his three generals were never born, and Shiro isn't a clone

His eyes flutter open. 'It is time' says a voice in his head, warm and purring before fading away. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, surprised his legs can take his weight. Information floods his head.

The Lion's were found, Voltron was formed. Zarkon's reign is being slowed down, the Paladins quickly making way with alliances and battle. His eyes grow cold. He can't join Voltron. He has to end it. He has to help the Empire, act like he wants to help the Empire, or else Earth will be invaded. And the most significant, bone chilling piece.

Lotor was disowned. Kenneth, or Eth'ean, is declared the sole heir of the Empire, and that was messaged throughout the Empire months ago. The half-blood, dark prince Eth'ean. He guesses he'll have to act his part, a broken man using the mask of a prince.

He walks down the hallway, hood down but mask up. His cape gently swishes behind him as he walks regally down the hall, face cold. Soldiers stop and salut, Kenneth not even glancing at them. He knew how all of this works. A year of etiquette with the Emperor himself. He reaches the throne room, but for some reason, the guards don't move, instead pointing their guns at him. A knife appears at each of their throats. He doesn't feel anything. He's the Dark Prince. He's Eth'ean. He doesn't feel emotion. He pushes the doors open, marching in, Zarkon immediately standing up.

"Eth'ean?" There is some wonder in his voice, a rare sound coming from the Emperor. Kenneth stops in front of the throne, going down onto one knee and bowing his head, kneeling. He realizes that Zarkon doesn't have the Black Paladin's beyard anymore. Good.

"Lord Zarkon." He says, feeling the lords dark eyes on him.

"At ease." Says the Emperor. His tone and look suddenly looks as if Kenneth had always been awake, not in a three year coma. Keith...Keith would be nineteen, almost twenty.

"I need to see everything." He says immediately. "Everything on file about the Paladins, the Lions, Voltron. Personal examinations, strategies, movements, alliances. Everything." Zarkon nods.

"You have a plan already?"

"I have been planning for years." He says, swallowing something in his throat. "The Empire must rise, and Voltron must fall." A general that happened to be in the room speaks.

"Sir, it sill take forever to-"

"Darling, shut up." he says, smiling in his mind at his use of his country grammar. "Am Incorrect to assume its all in the database?"

"Yes."

"Good." Kenneth nods to Zarkon. "I must go. I have wasted enough time as it is." And he turns and walks out the room, pacing down the halls, eyes blurry. He was doing this. He was actually going to do it. Help take down Voltron.

He spends day in the database room, researching. How Voltron forms and when, the Lion's individual characteristics. Each of the Paladins. One Paladin had been a prisoner of the Gahlra, champion of the arena in his place. Takashi Shirogane. He knew that name.

The other paladins were unnamed, with few photographs. He could disable the Black Paladins arm with a certain frequency pulse, but he'd have to get close. The former red paladin seemed like trouble. He was close to the Black Paladin, and a skilled fighter.

They had a Castle, which was powered by a Balmera crystal. It held the last of the Altaens, the last two. The side he wants to be on.

Lotor. He was on the side of the Altaens and humans, Voltron. He has to fight his friend. He can feel Zarkon's quintessence pulsing in him. He could run away...but then Earth would be enslaved. He buries his face in his hand. The only right thing to do is the wrong thing


	16. Chapter Two

**PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS**

Allura was chatting with Lotor when the Blue Lion suddenly spoke in their heads. 'The Dark Prince has awaken.'

Hunk was cooking food, Pidge about to hand him a bowl when their Lion's spoke in their heads. 'The Dark Prince slumbers no longer.'

Keith and Lance were arguing about the best flavor of ice cream when the Red Lion spoke in their heads. 'The Dark Prince walks again.'

Shiro was smiling at the Paladins when they suddenly still, looking at each other. The Black Lion speaks in his head. 'He has awaken.' And suddenly he's no longer in the Castle, but on the Gahlra's ship.

He barely survives his first fight.

He barely survives the torture.

He's put in the Arena, and it's as if he see's a ghost, a transparent person visible to only his eyes, telling him how to move and fight. The ghost that tells hm how to clean and fix his wounds, that tells him how to use his arm, that tells him the quickest ways to painlessly kill numerous types of aliens...

He's standing above a comatose man. The ghost.

"Shiro. SHIRO!" He gasps and his eyes open, meeting Pidges. He see's that he's on the floor, back to a wall. "Are you alright?"

"W-what happened?"

"You just collapsed." Says Pidge. "After...after we all heard a voice in our head." She looks at him, begging him to say he even heard it, that they weren't insane.

"I heard it too. He was awaken." He says. He stands, running his flesh hand through his hair. "I've seen him. Minutes before I escaped the first time. And then in the Arena fights. This might sound weird, but I could his ghost back then. He taught me how to fight."

"The Dark Prince." Says Lotor, and theirs a look on his face, sadness. Shiro just knows that the half-Altaen knew who it was.

"Who is he?" Says Allura.

"The Dark Prince...he's technically a halfbreed. I think Shiro could seen his ghost because they share the same kind of quintessence, at a scale. There was once a prophecy made, about someone who would either help us bring down the Empire or help the Empire rise. Zarkon found him, and will force him to fight us."

"You knew him personally." Says Keith. Lotor nods, not looking at Keith, as if he were hiding something. Shiro notes this behavior. The ghost told him to see all, remember all.

"Yes, I did. Zarkon named him Eth'ean, an Altaen name. He declared him his heir after I joined the Voltron coalition. He was in a three year self induced coma, and now he has awaken."

"But why do the Lion's care?" Says Lance. "Its not like they know him too...do they?"

"They do." He says. "You see, he is unique. His quintessence a mixture of what is necessary to be a Paladin of each of the Lion's. He found the Lion's years ago, but didn't take them to Zarkon." Allura bites her lip. They had found the Castle at some point, then.

"And now he's going to fight us?" Asks Hunk tentatively. Lotor nods.

"Unless we can get to him."

"Are you suggesting..." says Allura, knowing the answer when she see's his eyes.

"Yes. I'm suggesting sneak onto the mothership." They all agree, especially Shiro. He remembers the silent promise he had made, standing over the familiar, comatose human. 'I will come back, for you and Sam and Matt.' He's coming, three years too late.


	17. Chapter Three

**No Keith/Kenneth/Krolia (KKK clan ]) reunion yet. There is Lotor, though...and technically Keith and Kenneth to reunite, but not in that way. You know, just read!**

It was easier than they thought it would be to get on. They take the Green Lion, equipped with an invisibility cloak that could stay activated for near an hour, and made the Lion undetectable by any sort of sensor.

It took the, a few days to plan, to find a blindspot, to find a layout of the ship. But they finally did, and Lotor was manically grinning, happy to see his friend again.

"Alright, guys." Says Shiro. "Lets go. We don't know how much time we'll need." The seven of them exit the Green Lion, quickly floating down to an airlock. Pidge quickly hacks into it, making it open and the seven quickly entering the airlock.

Lets not get caught." Says Shiro. "In case of an emergency, we have Coran and Krolia in the Castle to help us out. It shouldn't come to that. Now, get in your groups and lets go." Each of them pull up a holographic map that outlines their search route and the guard rotations. Lance and Allura head down a hall; Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro down another; and Lotor and Keith down another.

Keith and Lotor silently run.

"Radar not picking up on him." Says Lotor, having adjusted his built-in radar to look for a certain quintessence signature. And then, suddenly, a dot blinks to life on the outer ring of the screen. "I got one! He's on the move." The dot was moving closer, but also alongside a path Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge were on. Lotor quickly mutters an alien curse.

"Hurry." Keith doesn't argue, for once. They run down the path, but they are a bit too late.

"Pidge! Oh, sorry!" Hunk.

"JUST KEEP FIGHTING!" Yells Pidge. Lotor takes out his sword, and suddenly their in a large, open intersection.

Shiro is dueling him, black sword against glowing hand. The Gahlra's finest pitted against one another. Hunk is trying to knock him out with stun blasts, but he dodges them all while still fighting. He even manages to avoid silent Pidge, dodging her grapple which knocks Shiro off his feet. Shiro is down, and he pulls on the line, quickly enough to not get shocked, but still make her collide with Hunk.

"ETH'EAN." He commands. He stops fighting. A sword is in his left hand, his hood and mask up. He turns to face Lotor, his eyes shimmering a gold color. His face is so very pale, skin half masked with shadow. He remembers a movie the Paladins once showed him, Star Wars. He looked like a Jedi that had joined the Dark Side. His arm lowers.

"He's safe." Says Lotor to Eth'ean. "Now stop fighting. Zarkon will never get to your home planet." Eth'ean eyelids blink, and they're his normal shade of brown now.

"Earth will never be safe." Says Eth'ean quietly in a muffled voice. Shiro had gotten up again, looking warily at the cloaked figure. "He...he will never be safe."

"Well, yes, he isn't." Says Lotor. "But I just saw him. We talk. He misses you. So does she." He was trying his very best not to spill any secrets or information. "Come. I know you want to get away. The Empire will fall." They stare at each other, before Lotor surprises the Paladins, Keith especially, by running forward and pulling the slightly shorter Dark Prince into a hug. Keith was in shock. He knew Lotor found it just as hard as he did to physically show emotion. This was the closeness only family had.

"The Paladins of Voltron." Says Eth'ean, a sad look in his eyes. "You should go." There's an accent in his muffled voice.

"Wait a moment, one moment we're fighting and then we're friends?" Says Pidge.

"Yes." He says. "Destroy the fleet. I'll take care of Zarkon. He thinks I'm on his side."

"You aren't?" Says Hunk. His eyes flash purple before becoming brown.

"I'm not. I never have been, every since he kidnapped me twelve years ago. Now, I'm going to kill him. After everything he's done to me."

"You're human." Blurts out Keith. "Why would he be interested in you?" Suddenly, he looks tired.

"One damn prophecy. One damn prophecy he wishes he never read." And he's gone, so quickly no one see's him leave. Turns out at that moment, Lance and Allura had entered.

"Woah. Its Batman." Says Lance, the other groaning before running to the Lion, set on destroying whatever ships were here.


	18. Chapter Four

**At this point you may be noticing: Why am I suddenly posting six chapters in less that half an hour? What inspired me? Well, truth be told, I felt bad. I realized some pf you guys might, like, love this fic, so mich your daydreaming the next sequence of events and then getting dissapointed. So I don't want to be one of those authors who go on "hiatus" (please dont look at my other fics). I realized this when I was reading this Hamilton fic which Im obsessed with on AO3, "Starvation in Magenta Suits", and I'm just contemplating life before deciding I'm a crappy updater. So heres chapter 4, and Kenneth is finally rescued, a ship is sailed (or was it the last ch? SHALLURA!) , and Allura is a smart bean.**

"He's on your tail, Lance!"

"Thank you, Hunk!" Yells Lance, turning his Lion around and summoning the jaw blade, running it through a series of fighter ships. They left Lotor and Allura on the ship, Allura insisting on Lance taking Blue for a fight and Keith Red. It would be quicker. They were finally going to take down Zarkon with some mysterious figure they met just fifteen minutes ago.

"Allura, how are things going?" Says Shiro over the comms.

"We're downloading as much information as we can." She says. "Then we'll head to the throne room." Shiro quickly turns Black, firing through a series of ships. "And Shiro?"

"Yes?" A moments hesitation.

"Stay safe, please." I will.

Allura turns to Lotor, who smiles.

"You got yourself a Paladin?" Allura blushes.

"Shut up. Did you get the info?"

"Yes." He says, pulling a data-storage chip out of the computer. "We now have the diagrams and information on all of the Empire's ships, droids, and weapons."

"Throne room, then." She says. But first, Lotor pulls out his sword, slicing through the large data machine, breaking it cleanly.

"Now." He says.They run down the halls, closer and closer to the throne room. They could hear roars of anger and metal on metal and destruction. The sounds of a battle. In a few moments, they're there.

The room is a mess. The floor is dented with the walls, the throne obliterated. Small fires were started here and there, some of the lights broken. And in the center of the room is Zarkon, foot on top of a familiar top piece of armor.

"NOOO!" Roars Lotor, but then Zarkon falls, a knife impaled in his eye, neck, torso, and stomach, piercing his stomach and lungs. Standing there, is the Dark Prince, and he looks like Hell.

His mask and cloak are gone with his main piece of armor. He wears his torn and bloody black human shirt and vest, one of his metal boots missing, the other missing some of the metal. The scar above his eye is carved again, blood covering half his face and trailing down his neck. His chest has a large cut on it, a sword buried in his side, and his right arm is bent at an odd angle. His hands are bloody, his metal claws out, and his eyes are dark, mouth open while taking ragged breaths, his mouth bloody and his canines flecked with blood.

"Kenneth." Says Lotor, running forward and catching him. "No no no..." Allura joins him, and they drag him away from the dead Emperor's body. He's shaking chest rattling with shaky, deep breaths.

"You still have to see him. Your son, your lady love." Says Lotor, quickly tearing off some cloth and presses it to the cut on his chest.

"Oh Altaea" whispers Allura. "He killed Zarkon."

"Yes." Say Lotor. At that, Allura presses her comms.

"We need help." But no one can come. They're too busy. Lotor looks helplessly at Allura, who stares at the dying human before her. The shape of his face, so pale and handsome. The paleness is already unhealthy, but is almost transparent with the blood loss. One of his eyes are open, the color a familiar purple-grey.

'Twelve years ago, my father died.' Keith had said once. 'His name was Kenneth Ethan Kogane.' The Prince said he had been kidnapped twelve years ago. Ethan was the human translation of Eth'ean. And Lotor, saying his son was safe, Earth was save. The shade of purple, the height of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes...

They're not on the ship anymore, but in the Castle, in front of a healing pod.

"How..." starts Lotor, but this time Allura doesn't waste any time. She pulls out the sword, earning a gasp from the now unconscious man. Blood starts to pour out, but she lifts him up, quickly throwing him into the healing pod.

The pod, bless the programmer, recognized the amount of blood loss and immediately lowers the temperature severely. His lips turn blue and his skin paler, but the blood flows slowly. And then it starts the healing process.

"Coran." She says into the comms. "Help the Paladins. I'm in the Castle. Destroy the mothership."

"Yes, princess." Says her friend, and Allura finally allows herself to relax. Lotor is still in shock.

"How-"

"I realized who he was." She says, meeting Lotor's eyes. "Exactly who he was. You should told Keith or Krolia, or at least someone!" Lotor bows his head, standing.

"I apologize, but I couldn't reveal his true identity."

"So the prophecy did come true." She says. "The fall of the Gahlra Empire." Lotor nods.

"Indeed." They stare at the man in then healing pod, wearing ragged black clothes, his face and hands painted red.

"Doesn't Shiro have that same vest?" She says. And then they laugh. Laugh to distract themselves of what has just happened and what will happen.


	19. Chapter Five

**A friend asked me which actor I imagine would be Kenneth if Voltron was live-action. My answer? Tom Cruise. Only Tom Cruise. He's so amazing in Mission: Impossible, and thats what actually inspired me to make Kenneths middle name "Ethan". If you remember, "Eth'ean" means "Hunt". And who plays Ethan Hunt? Tom Cruise. Please write angsty Voltron or Mission: Impossible fics**

Eight days later...

The two work together to keep the Paladins away from the healing pods. They don't want them to see what happened to him, and the possible realization of who he was on Keith and Krolia's end. They still didn't know if he would survive, but his rates were increasing. The original three percent was now forty-three. Something was wrong, which they could tell. The bleeding hadn't stopped yet. His face was dirty and still halfway covered with blood. His shirt was soaked, but his finger tips had stopped bleeding, claws retracted.

Every day, Lotor told her more about what he went through, how much he did just so Earth wouldn't be the heart of the Gahlra's invasion. How much he missed Earth. How much torture he went to. The torture of being in the arena, of being tortured and raped and flogged, of being infused with Zarkon's fading quintessence, of being blind, of being able to smell anything and hear anything, enough that sometimes he was found with the areas around his ears bleeding, nails bloody.

"His chest has stopped bleeding." Says Lotor. "And his arm is almost done healing. Percentage of survival is fifty-two, no, fifty-four." The two Altaen's look tired, only leaving for food and the restroom, and that only one at a time.

"I'm going to get some food." She stands up from her position on the steps and exits, immediately greeted by the Paladins, anxious to see him.

"Not yet." She says.

"What's wrong?" Says Pidge. "Whats his survival rate?" Allura tells them it, and their faces grow dim. "I can help! I can make the pod-"

"No." She says. "He's in serious condition. Its his quintessence, and also Zarkon's weapon of use. Its making his blood clot very slowly."

"He is human." Says Keith. "So they knew about Earth. But why him?" Allura looks apologetically at him. She couldn't tell him just yet. He was so calm right now. It would make him go in shock, that his father was still alive.

"That is a story for later. I'm famished." Hunk, sweet Hunk, presents her with a bowl of orange noodles.

"I got ya', Princess." He says. He gives her another. "For Lotor." She smiles.

"Than you, Hunk." And she turns around and go's back inside, giving the food to Lotor.

"You know we have to take him out soon?" He says. "The machine is working too hard on him. The micro-therapy cells are going to affect his organs soon. With the amount of bleeding they have to fix, its not good for his body to have them for eight days. I also think its just the cells that can't stop the bleeding. An old fashion needle and thread will be a better approach." She nods.

"I'll get Coran in tomorrow."

Tomorrow comes, and Allura calls Coran while the Paladins are asleep. He comes in with a floating medical table and a box of medical surgical supplies.

"Take him out." He says, seriously. Allura quickly presses some buttons, the pod opening with a hiss, cold air flowing out. Allura catches the unconscious man, ignorant of the blood that gets on her. Quickly, she and Lotor secure him on the table, and they watch Coran get to work.

He does the face first, quickly cleaning it of the fresh blood, not the old, dried one, but enough that he can see the wound that cuts into and above his eyebrow, quickly stitching it before moving onto his side.

He unzips his vest and quickly cuts his shirt open, revealing bloody skin. He slows the bleeding to the stop, not even waiting before closing that wound and quickly cleaning the blood on his torso and wrapping a clean bandage around it.

His arm is more difficult. He has to pop is dislocated shoulder back in, and then sets the bone in his arm before tightly binding the area between his wrist and elbow, applying a thin layer of a plaster like material on top, which quickly hardens into a thin cast.

He wets a piece of cloth to clean his face, but the moment the cloth touches his face, purple eyes shoot open, quickly sitting up. Coran yelps, jumping back, as Kenneth takes deep, ragged breaths staring at them.

"Wh-where am I?" He raps quietly.

"You're in the Castle of Lions." Says Allura kindly, taking his hands. "We thank you for defeating Zarkon once and for all, and I especially, for being able to hold on for so many years." His eyes focus on her and she watches, intrigued but silent, as his purple eyes fade into a warm brown.

"N-no problem." He swings his legs over the side of the table, broken arm folded against his stomach.

"Woah!" Warn the three, quickly moving to stop him from getting off.

"Let me help." Says Allura, pulling his uninjured arm over her shoulder, making herself grow a bit taller to easily support him.

"Thank you." He gets off, taking a few uncertain, uneven steps, Allura holding him up. His face was pale, eyes set on his feet, willing them to move properly. After a few minutes, he can walk properly, but too weak to hold himself up on his own. His face is tired, and she can see a broken look in his eyes.

"How old are you?" She says. He looks at her.

"How old do you think I am?"

"Allura, are you flirting again?" Says Lotor. Kenneth chuckles weakly as Allura glares at him.

"So-sorry, love, but I'm happy all ready." He says. "You're answer?"

"You don't look much older than the Paladins. I would guess twenty-two or three." He grins.

"Thirty..five." Allura smiles.

"Thats good. Are you tired?" He nods. "Alright. Coran, Lotor: goodnight."

"Lets go." Rasps Kenneth in French as Allura leads him out of the room, and they make their way to the closest empty room, and she sets him down on the bed, draping a blanket over him after zipping up his vest.

"Thank you..." his voice fades, falling asleep. She smiles. She wonders how different Keith would of been if Kenneth had stayed on Earth. She leaves, pondering that thought. And then she realizes:

How will she tell the two?


	20. Chapter Six

Its dark when his eyes slowly open. He's on a cozy, twin sized bed. His arm is across his stomach, covered in something. What did Haggar do thi-

Oh.

He remembers.

He killed Zarkon, turning against him when he thought he had him wrapped around his finger. The fall of the Gahlra Empire, helping the last of the Altaens. He remembers Allura's kind eyes, at least that's what he thinks her name is. Does she even know his? Why would she want to know the name of a broken man?

He sits up, right arm still across the top of his stomach. It hurts to let it just swing or hang at his side. Even now, he can feel pinpricks of pain shooting through it. 'Don't show pain. Pain creates torture and more pain'. No, he's not there anymore.

He catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye and he turns, looking at himself in a mirror and realizing he can only see out of one eye.

He's pretty sure that his clothes are bloodstained, but they don't show against the black of his vest, the only sign's a rip in the side of his torso, revealing a stark white bandage that has pricks of blood. His right eye is covered by a bandage, but he cans still see black and some light. He wasn't blind. It was just the bandage, covering a deep cut above his eye. 'His mom screams, holding the knife above her hand, madly swiping up and down at his face as a man pulls her away.' He puts the bandage back on. Some of the skin below his eye has flecks of dried blood, which he ignores. He gently grips the bandage and pulls it off, wincing as it pulls at his skin for a quick moment.

The scar was cut open again, sown shut. A nauseating feeling rises in his gut. It was cut open, again. A reminder of how different he was. His hair is messy, and his face is the palest he's ever seem. He stands up, gently swaying before sitting down again. He gets back up, and stumbles to the other side of the room. He's out of breath. He stumbles to his bed. Then to the wall. He does this until walking feels normal, an exception being the pain in his side, torso, and legs.

He sits on his bed, leaning forward, elbow resting on his knee, cast covered arm across his knee. He remembers Allura and Lotor, and another man...Coran? Yes, Coran. He sits there, zoned out, until he hears faint footsteps, growing louder. Soon, he hears the door to his room hiss open, and he looks up, a tall figure figure entering the room. The dim lights turn brighter.

"Your eyes are, well, beautiful." He blinks, a small smile worming its way across his face. His eyes are probably gold.

"I've heard that before." He says. 'The prison guard heavily breaths in his ear 'you have beautiful eyes.' ' "What brings you here?" Allura smiles.

"You're Keith's father." And time freezes. In less than the time it takes for any eyelid of a species to start to blink, he's standing up. Allura blinks.

"When did you-"

"Keith Kogane?"

"Yes, I believe that is his surname." He holds back a sob. He doesn't feel anything. Anything but nothing. Keith...his son...

"The Paladins are quite worried about you. They got some information regarding the state of your injuries, but besides that, they know nothing." He smiles.

"The Paladins...I apologize for attack'n them in the ship. I just..." he sighs, running his uninjured hand through his hair. Allura catches a glimpse of scars on his arm, disappearing into his sleeve.

"We understand." She says.

"So, Keith." Ah, she forgot she mentioned the sometimes-Paladin.

"Here's here, yes. He was the Red Paladin before he joined the Blade of Marmorra."

"The Blade..." he whispers.

"And he as well as the rest of the Paladins want to meet you. They thought they were the first humans, and then they learn you've been here for twelve years...Shiro said to thank you." 'Just concentrate on the arm, you'll know how to turn it on. It'll hurt every time, a burning thats torturous, but just grit your teeth. Its either you or them.'

"Takashi Shirogane." He says, smiling. "He was a fast learner." Allura stares at him.

"I never understand, how where you able to guide him?"

"Quintessence. He is meant to access the Black Lions plane of existence in his mind, and I've done it already, so I just had to access the visual plane and use it to pull my consciousness out." Allura nods.

"I was just wondering. My...my father mentioned being able to do it." She seem's so sad, and he forgets all of his own pain.

"So do I need to meet the Paladins or not?" She smiles.

"Of course. Follow me."


	21. Chapter Seven

**Hey! I am back! Sorry for the long wait: traffic was long (read as being grounded). So sorry for no note, but atleast Kenneth, our dear smol Kenny, is in the Castle! This Chapter is short, but the next one is long, so don't get dissapointed yet!**

He walks with Allura, who helps him walk down the metal hallways. He feels uncomfortable. He's not wearing the black armor anymore, but his clothing is old and faded, his boots worn. There are cuts on his vest, certain angles making his bandages visible, but he just has to keep his arm crossed over his stomach area and he's good to go.

What he's actually uncomfortable about is seeing humans. He saw the Paladins, but not really. Not without their armor, not as their usual selves, not as, well, he doesn't even know how old they are. Maybe they're around Keith's age-

Keith. His son. The son he hasn't seen in well over a decade. He would be here. He was with the Blade. Then maybe, just possible, did he meet Krolia? There was a large chance, since the Empire's databanks told him about diminished sightings. But then again, he shouldn't keep his hopes up too high.

Pain is flaring in his side where he had been impaled by a sword, but he doesn't show the pain. Weakness is death. They stop in front of a door, and dark brown Altaen eyes meet golden, amber-brown human eyes.

"Would you like me to...answer any questions before hand?" Her lips are pursed, her hands clasped before her.

"Keith. How is he?" She smiles.

"He's an amazing young man. Although his hairstyle is questionable, he seems a lot like his mother, Krolia." Krolia.

"Is she also here?" She nods.

"I couldn't keep her out, although I thought you would appreciate a private reunion." He chuckles.

"Half of my world is private. I can't see out of my right eye!" He points to his bandaged covered right eye. Allura smiles.

"Yes, I would agree so. Do you want to...?" She beckons at the door.

"After you." He says, and he watches as she confidently walks, doors sliding open. He watches her lithe figure stand tall, and he can hear chatter, laughter, and a young make voice quip up to some defense, followed by more laughter and ridicule. A family. He hasn't had one in a while. The chatter barely minimizes, and Allura looks over her shoulder, pointedly looking at him. He takes a deep breath, and enters the room. They stare at him for a few seconds, before he hears someones breathing stop, one's speed up, the smooth slide of a weapon against a sheath, and suddenly, his uninjured hand is in front of his face, holding a knife that had been thrown at him.

He simply raises an eyebrow.

"Pardon me, but I don't believe that was necessary."


	22. Chapter Eight

The Paladins and Coran chatter, casually dressed in their everyday clothing. Keith even was, and, surprisingly, Krolia was wearing something other than her combat uniform or armor. She was even smiling, as Hunk told a story about himself, Lance, and Pidge at the Garrison, Lance interjecting when Hunk came to a particularly embarrassing part.

They didn't even notice when Allura stepped into the room, looking over her shoulder, gently smiling. Its only when they see a new person enter the room. Their first thought is on his clothing. Lance glances at Shiro. They wore nearly the same exact outfit, except the mew man's clothing was faded and worn and didn't have the yellow highlight on the vest color.

And in a few moments time, multiple things happen.

First, the man is human, and his eyes seem to shift color, looking wary (and he was nearly wearing the same outfit as Shiro)

Second, he was injured. He looked seriously injured.

Third, he looked young.

Fourth, he looks kind of like Keith, but he couldn't be that much older than the Paladins.

And fifth, Keiths breath catches and Krolia gets up.

The Gahlran woman stands, quickly taking out a knife. Keiths eyes widen, but she throws it, the knife flying faster than a blink of an eye, but then the man's hand is up, the uninjured one, and he grips the knife by its hilt, lowing it from where it's point was a few centimeters form his face.

And he speaks.

"Pardon me, but I don't believe that was necessary." His voice held a slight southern accent, the thickness having been diminished from being somewhere that was obviously not the Southern United States. His lips are slightly turned up in an amused smile. Long, thin fingers with thin scars in the hand and knuckles turn the blade, staring at the symbol. "What-"

"Who are you?" Growls Krolia, glaring at the man. That isn't strange, but what is is that her eyes are moist, tears threatening to spill. She turns to Allura. "You said this was the man that Zarkon had-"

"Yes, he is." Says Allura.

"But who are you?" She says, training her eyes back onto the man. The man hesitates, his brown hair casting a small shadow over his face, brown eyes glinting purple. There is a slight longing in his eyes, before its quickly buried underneath a faux calm.

"I...I'll explain that later." No one misses the tension in the air, but nobody really wants to acknowledge it either. Keith looks like he's having an internal battle with himself. Krolia' eyes are tinged red. Shiro looks relieved. The man sits down in a spare chair right next to Allura and Lotor, who looks at him out of the corner of his eye, a slight smile on his violet face. Thankfully, Shiro breaks the silence.

"I'm happy you finally got out of there." He says. "I"m sorry I didn't come back sooner, I," he lowers his head the slightest, his eyes cast down. "I forgot about you." And the man blinks, an internal conflict behind his eyes.

"You have nothing to apologize for." He says, his hands clasped before him on the table. His thumb lightly traces a thin scar that runs across one of his knuckles. "Nothing was your fault." He looks up, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I should be thanking y-"

"Are you human?" Quip's Lance.

"Lance!" Says Pidge. "We can't just guess what species he is!" The man looks at her, slightly amused.

"And how do you know that I am a "he"?" The man has a small smirk, and Hunk releases a laugh. That starts a chain reaction, and even Krolia, who doesn't trust the man for some reason, manages a small small.

"Je suis l'homme." He says. He just killed two birds with one stone. Lance grins.

"Oooh, le français" he says with utterly horrible pronunciation that causes Keith to snort. Lance playfully glares at him.

"Like you know any better!" Keith rolls his eyes at the comment.

"My d-relatives used to speak over eight languages. French was a main one." The man looks down, pale fingers intwining together tightly. Keith, being Keith, notices it. It's a small movement, one most people would ignore, but he learned from a young age not to ignore anything.

You will never know what ignorance can lead to.

But, apparently, this man has the same weird mental sense as Keith, sensing the question that lingers on the boy's tongue and brushing that out of the air.

"How is Earth? I haven't been there for a while." Lance grins manically and burst into describing absolutely everything that has happened in the past decade. Soon, Hunk joins, then Pidge, and Keith reluctantly at first, but then his voice gains a vigor that rivals Lance's. All four of them weave a picture, a story, a timeline. All four of their lives and how it braided together until it became a single, growing thread, their explanation and being together at the table being the recent addition to that thread. Shiro adds his input, and the talk turns into other countries, exotic places filled with flowers and creatures and times from the past.

"And then I slipped and ran into a bush! It was a strawberry bush, and from then on, I learned that I was allergic to strawberry bushes! Not the fruit, but the bush. And its so weird! By auntie is married to a botanist, and he has a strawberry bush, but I never had a reaction! Not to anything!"

"Except for your own stupidity, oh wise one." Says Pidge. Everyone laughs. And in the laughter, the man got up, Lotor and Krolia looking at him. He silently exits, no one noticing his absence. As they all shout energetically into another tale, Lotor and Krolia invisibly get up, following after the man.

"Eth'ean!" Calls out Lotor, running down a corridor, Krolia after him. She couldn't hear any running- how did he get away so fast? At least she has a name now- Eth'ean...but that isn't his real name. She's not confident that it's him, but she wants it so badly to be him. They turn a few corners, and soon they run past a set of doors and they're in the viewing deck.

"Ah."sighs Lotor, relieved. Eth'ean's head turns up just a bit, from where he sits on the ground in a corner made by the large wall of transparent metal and the wall, one leg drawn to his chest, an arm slung above it, and the other leg stretched out before him.

"Lotor." He says softly. And then even more quietly. "Krolia." Krolia stares at the man in the corner, his shoulders slightly hunched forward, making his seem smaller. His eyes are brown, but there is no emotion in them. Its both his eyes and his stance, but she now knows what a broken man looks like.

"Why are you here?" He says, still looking out into space, as if he could see the end.

"We wanted to see if you were alright." Says Krolia. Silence. Please, show some sign, just one! "Some people have gone mad just by looking into space or the sky. Th'kon, a Gahlran astronomer, went mad one day just by looking at the sky. He never became sane again." Eth'ean lets out a low, humorless chuckle.

"Good for him." He tilts his head back, eyes closed. Painfully closed. "I became sane again."And Lotor takes an impossibly fast step.

"Ethan!" He says, in shock. She knew that they knew each other: Eth'ean had been a Prince, and so had been Lotor. "You...you never told me-"

"That I went mad?" He says, standing up. He flinches when he meets Krolia's eyes. "It was after years. Years of hope, and being broken and shattered, messily put together again just to be pulverized." He spats, eyes a scary violet. The violet that lit the former Gahlra empire, the violet that was the color of Shiro's arm lighting up.

She felt a twinge of fear.

"Do you even know what he did? Everything that I have done? Every single year," his voice breaks. "Every single year, he shows me a live feed. From Earth. He had drones and some partner's on Earth, and you know what he would show me? My son." Son. Son. Son. He wasn't done yet. "He wold whisper threats into my ear as I watched him all alone on a playground one year, being bullied another time, at my grave! And he would threaten me. I would be tortured every single time after that, and the worst part? After I leave the room, I always forget how he looks like." He looks down, voice lowering, tears on the verge of his eyes.

"I still don't know how he looks like." He says. "Its like I'm remembering a book I read- I remember what happened, but not how anything looked like. And then...when I went to Earth and found the Blue Lion, I went to my house. Did you know that it was only an hour's walk to there to Blue?" An hour. One house.

It was him.

Krolia starts forward, but she stops herself. He's in a flashback- she witnessed a horrifying one by Shiro; he had the same glazed, dilated eyes as the man in front of her.

"I had to leave." He says with no emotion. "I had to leave, leave, leave or he would of been killed. He was gone, not home. I made five origami lions out of sticky notes amd made a not. I might be loosing it know- Allura...she told me Keith is here, and I saw him, I SAW him! But I'm doubting it- a, I dreaming? Am I hallucinating? I don't know what's real or not..." he looks up. "Krolia...are you actually here?" And he seem's so raw, so broken. She thought he was dead...

She walks forward and slaps him. He blinks, doing nothing to relieve the pain that grows from the oainful looking red mark on his cheek. Lotor hisses.

"That must have h-"

"Shut up." Growls Krolia. She turns back to Eth'ean and her eyes are wet. She's never shown weak emotion before. But this was her only love. "Kenneth..." and she steps forward and kisses him, wrapping her arms around him. He stiffens, before slowly melting into her gentle touch. She pulls away before realizing that Lotor has left, leaving them in private.

"Kenneth Ethan Kogane." She says, tracing his face, fingers lingering on his stitched eyebrow. She meets his uncovered eye. "I am so sorry." He manages a weak smile.

"Hey: it's okay." She shakes her head, meeting his now brown eye.

"It's not. I...I thought you were dead. I saw one of Keith's memories, and you're grave was there. I saw you, and...I couldn't really believe it was you. And then, all these years, you were being tortured." She looks down. "I made your life worst than it already had been by leaving you," He pulls her into a hug.

"No, you didn't. I 'ew you had to leave, and I knew that the ten year gap of peace was too much. My life...it's just meant to be horrible." He smiles a broken smile. "I guess..." he sighs. "I'm sorry." He says.

"Why?" She says. "Why would y-"

"I broke my promise." He says. "I tried...three times. I hadn't meant to, but it just happened." She shushes him.

"It's okay. Don' tell me now." She regains her composure. She knew he was strong for making it this far, but he was going to shatter soon. Today, tomorrow...soon. She has to be his crutch. "Don't tell me now. Tell me when you're absolutely ready." And she manages a small smile. "And you need new clothes." He laughs softly.

"Its Takashi who copied me!" He complains. She smiles.

"Still. And we need to tell Keith." And they kiss again, and then Kenneth stiffens upon hearing the door open. Even breathing that kitches, awkwardly. Embaressment. Soft footsteps.

"Mom, why are you kissing him?" Says Keith. Krolia pulls away, smiling. Kenneth turns to Keith. Keith looks shocked, and even more at his mothers smile and the dried tears. "...mom?" Krolia looks at Kenneth, and Keith also does, sadness and caution in his eyes. Recognition spreads across his face.

"No." He breaths. "No no no, mom? Is this, is this..."

"Keith." Says Krolia. "Come here. You're dad is a bit tired." And before they know it, Keith is running and tackling Kenneth into a hug.

"Dad." He says crying. "You died, I thought you died, but the origami...I 'ew you weren't dead, your alive, oh my God, I'm so so sorry, dad, I love, I-l

"Hey hey hey" shushes Kenneth, smiling at his son who reaches just above his shoulder, head buried in his chest. "It's okay, I'm here now, I'm here." Keith holds him tighter.

"We're going to go to the space mall, as a family. And we will go shopping and bowling and eat out for an entire week and we can be a family, and I missed you so so so much, and I was fighting you, and-"

"You're rambling!" Chuckles Kenneth. "A trait you got from your mother." Krolia looks happy and sad. Sad that her two boys had to be separated for so long and because of something so undeserving for the both of them.

"We will." Says Krolia. "Tomorrow or sometime this week; you're father is still a bit weak." She manages a small smile. "But we will be a family again, just like when you were a baby." And Keith hugs his dad again, and this time Kenneth rests his chin on his sons head, closing his eyes. Krolia silently memorizes the scene and takes a picture with her small recorder.

After a minute, she makes them separate. "We'll get caught up later. Kenneth, your probably tired." And he stiffens.

"Dad, what-" but he stumbles away from them, clutching his head with his hands, fingers digging into his hair. His breathing quickens and he falls onto his knees. His hands move down from his hair, covering his ears, harshly pressing them.

"Get out get out GET OUT!" He says. "Lock me in, call Lotor." He sounds desperate and a bit scared, and so is Krolia and Keith. What's happening

"Da-"

"GO!" He yells. There's something new in his voice, a sort of raw feral-ness that can quickly morph into a growl. And Krolia and Keith turn and run out to get Lotor. As Keith turns around, locking the door, he see's his dad fighting himself, clawing at himself, fingertips now coated. His arms are scratched up, and the bandage is off his eye. He meets his dads eyes as the doors close and lock.

One eye is bright gold, almost yellow.

The other is burning violet.


	23. Update

So, um, hey readers! It's been a long time ince I've update _anything_ on . So, first of all, all of my fics on this platform were finger-tapped-out by me on an ipad mini, so my fingers hurt after a while and updates were slow, chapters had a lot of errors, and the quality honestly sucked. So I took the cowards path and just stopped posting. Well, a few months ago, my dad got me a laptop! And I forgot all about my fanfic account because I've been using AO3 (username: Kono_Rohan_Da) and posting fics on that. But now I will, in the foreseeable future, be updating and editing and even re _writing_ some of my incomplete fics! So, if I've left any of you at a cliff hanger, I'm so sorry. If you want to know what would of happened, email me at rohan. and I'll send you a thorough summary of what would happens after where I left off, because it's still iffy if I'll actually update any of my fics on sincd its been so long.

-JeSonoAka


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